Lad From the Low Country
by Ltkcoolnesslover
Summary: He was a lord of a high degree. And he was a lad from the low country... Oh sorrow. Sing sorrow. Now he sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod. And no one knows he loved him but himself and God.
1. Chapter 1

- Now he sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod, and no one knew he loved him but himself and God -

The afternoon sun hung steadily over the marketplace. Its hazy beams reached down upon the shops and heated the goods they sold. Once moist meats became crisped and the great wheels of cheese soft and molded before noon. Even the sweet teacakes turned soggy and melted in the shade of booth. People milled around the square, glancing drowsily at some shops and stopping to pull out silver coins at others. The market sat on the main thoroughfare in the village and up to the royals' houses and palace one way, and toward the peasant settlements on the other.

The peasants, mostly farmers and their families lived in the outskirts of town or in the lowlands surrounding the small kingdom. Dusty, well-trodden roads wound their way through the hills and passed by the broken down shacks and barns of the poor. A quiet sort of unease fell over these parts of the land.

At sudden, the loud bang of a screen door shattered the silence as two figures charged from their residence and up through the meadow. Twin pairs of tracks emerged from the dirt as their heavy foot falls passed over the ground. These two figures, both covered in sweat and mud, ran through the grasses and weeds with barely contained excitement and wicker baskets in hand. Each of them was already out of their youth and growing into fine young adults. The boy, strong as he was from years of toil, was also very slim. Tall, with dark hair slicked back from his forehead and brilliant emerald eyes, he was the picture of beauty. However, being one of the poor folk, it was not properly recognized nor seen through the layers of sweat and grime. The girl, likewise, was also very pretty. She had slightly lighter hair and eyes of shimmering azure, with a full bosom and slim waist. Both of them ran full speed through the countryside and toward the village. Laughing, the girl called out to her companion and, more specifically, brother.

"Loki," she huffed out, "do you think that the big pig father told us about is still there?"

"I should certainly hope so Lilath. If not, we would not have any piglets to sell come open market next spring! And what a disaster that would be! We've spent all summer building a pen for the darned animals, so I'd hope to goodness that we'd get one!" Loki forced a chuckle through the deep breaths he took as he ran. The air, he could tell, was getting moister and the sky darker out to the west. "We'd best hurry though. It's going to rain soon."

"Than hurry we shall, brother!" Lilath hooked her arm around her brother's and pulled him ever quicker towards town.

As the sounds of the marketplace grew louder, so did the sounds of thunder in the distance. By the time they actually reached the pavilion, a light mist had already begun to swirl around them.

"Alright," Loki breathed as they slowed, "Where even is the butchers?"

"I think father said it was around the corner from the bakery, right?"

Nodding, Loki scanned the square for any sign of either the butchers place or the bakers. Finally spotting the sign hung for the bakery, he called to Lilath and headed onwards. As promised to them, the butchers shop was indeed located just beyond the bakery. Stepping up to the open-windowed stand they dug the coins from their pockets and called out for the butcher. A portly man with a blood spattered apron emerged from behind the counter and gazed down at them beneath wiry brows.

"What can I do you for dears?" A lopsided sort of grin came onto his face and his mustache twitched.

"Do you have any of the pigs left? We heard that a whole lot of them were brought in from a farm in the north." Loki questioned, trying a glance behind the man to see for himself what was available.

"I'm sorry Lad, but the last of the hogs were sold to a fellah short an hour ago."

The siblings' faces quickly turned from a look of inquiry to the face of horror.

"None of them left!? But, we need one!" Lilath's eyes began to tear up. "Our family can't survive without one!"

"Again, I'm sorry Lassie. But I don't believe I can help you. I wish I could tell you I did, but I really don't have a single hog left."

Lilath tried to hold back the tears, but eventually dropped to the ground, sobbing and covering her face with her hands. Loki, face red from both frustration and embarrassment at his sister's outburst, quickly pulled Lilath to her feet and hurried off in the direction that they'd came.

"It's alright, sister. Perhaps they will have a nice sow here for us some other time." Though slightly disappointed at the waste of their journey, Loki tried to remain optimistic and plastered a semi-false smile on his face as they walked. Suddenly, a tremendous noise came from behind them. Swirling to see what the commotion was, they saw a large crowd beginning to form. Nearly everyone in the area was hurrying to join the mass. From somewhere amongst the din of the growing horde, they heard a strong voice rising up. It called,

"Make way! Make way for the Prince!"

And from deep within the swarm of people Loki thought he could see the outline of someone with gleaming armor and hair as gold as the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

"Heed, make way for the Prince of Clarion! Make passage! Make way!"

The gathered people began to part, as a grand figure mounted of a white steed road in. They squished themselves back against the windows of shops, and flooded any crevice available to them. Though pressed for space, the crowd gazed with upturned faces filled with an eager sort of wonderment at the approaching person. Then, from above the heads of the crowd, a young man, no older than Loki and Lilath both, came into view. He wore faded silver armor emblazoned with a red-lined dragon on the breastplate and a winged helmet upon his brow. Shoulder length, golden hair turned dark from the wetness framed his face and hung limp with the weight of the rain. The droplets cascaded down his muscled arms and face, catching in the slight amount of stubble growing on his chin. This man, regal and intimidating, was Thor, Prince of Clarion. As soon as a large enough space had opened, the Prince halted his mount and began to speak.

"Good people," His face was grim as he spoke and his eyes held disgust for the commoners he stood amongst. After all, those of royalty did not mingle with peoples of a lower class. "I have come to you today to bring disparaging news. I've news that a country from the east has declared war against us. I am calling all able-bodied men with money enough to purchase a weapon to join together and fight for our land."

Though he heard the Prince's words, they hardly registered in Loki's mind. All he could think about was the sudden flutter in his chest that occurred when Prince Thor first came into his sight. At first, he thought it could have just come from the excitement of seeing the Prince. After all, he was a rather attractive man. However, as the initial thrill wore off, it ebbed away into a pleasant kind of warmth that filled his entire being. Loki had never considered himself one to be romantically interested in men, and as a matter of fact, hadn't been much attracted by anyone up until this point. Yet, no matter what he did in those moments, he could not shake his odd, newfound feelings for the Prince of his kingdom. So wrapped up in his thoughts was he that he failed to register the tug of his sister's hand on his sleeve.

"Loki, let's go get a closer look at the Prince!" Lilath was grinning from ear to ear and nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. Loki barely had time to come up from his thoughts before he was being dragged foreword and into the crowd. A distressed cry rose up from a lady Loki had bumped into which caused many to turn their heads, and even Thor paused his speech to see what trouble amongst the peasants had so rudely forced him to do so. A few more people had also things to voice as the peasant girl dragging a boy behind her like a dead fish came charging up through the crowd. When they reached the front, Lilath stopped in her tracks, as if she had suddenly, through all her exuberance, realized what she had just done. Loki however, was still too dazed to immediately recognize his sister's abrupt stop. Lilath let go of his hand as she stopped, and Loki's momentum carried him foreword so far as to make him trip and fall. Fall right in front of a massive crowd of people, and alas straight into the clearing where the Prince himself sat.

Slowly, Loki picked himself up from the ground, spitting mud and debris from his lips as he went. He felt the stones beneath him cutting into his knees and shins. A bit of blood also mixed with the dirt upon his face. Once he was sitting fully up right, he turned his head slightly to face the crowd behind him. With burning cheeks and a look of absolute terror he saw Lilath, open mouthed, staring guiltily back at him. Everything in the pavilion was silent. Even the rain had decided to quiet in this moment.

Loki was completely lost for as what to do here. He continued to stare at Lilath until he saw her gaze snap up to look in horror at something behind him. Suddenly, Loki sensed a presence behind him.

"Young Lad." A deep and heavily accented voice sounded from behind him and rang in Loki's ears. Breathing becoming erratic, Loki turned to face the person behind him. He was hardly allowed a look at the man's face before a massive hand wrapped around his bicep and hauled him roughly to his feet. Swaying as he stood, a pair of strong hands momentarily appeared upon his shoulders to steady him, and at the same time the watery emerald of Loki's eyes met the piercing cerulean of none other than the Prince.

Loki was beyond captivated with the sight provided to him. However, instead of the kindness and understanding he wished to find within Prince Thor's eyes, he saw only anger and hatred. Their gazes broke from each other as Thor's eyes flicked over to a nearby guard whom he motioned over with a lazy flick of the wrist.

"Aldwin, escort this peasant and his lady friend out of my sights. I'd rather not be interrupted by lowly serfs such as these." As the Prince spoke these words, Loki felt his heart drop low in his chest. He was not allowed to think much upon this however, as a new pair of hands clasped around his arms. He and Lilath were hauled out of the city by the guard, and then were quite literally dumped upon the ground.

"As one of the Prince's personal friends, if I ever see the two of you within his sights again, I'll throttle you both." This was the promise left with Loki and Lilath as the guard turned and walked back the way they'd just come.

When he was sure the guard had left, Loki swiftly got to his feet and barreled down the road towards their farm. He heard Lilath's pitiful calls for him to wait for her, but he did not slow. Small tears began to drip from his downcast face as he ran and realized that no matter what he did, a peasant such as him would never be anything in the Prince's eyes.


End file.
